It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn
by gidgetgal9
Summary: Summary- Tag for Dream A Little Dream of Me- Dean and Sam are trying to find Bela when an unexplained consequence pops up from the previous hunt. Hurt Sam, Protective Dean. Written by BlueEyeDemonLiz and Gidgetgal9
1. Chapter 1

It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn

Summary- Tag for Dream A Little Dream of Me- Dean and Sam are trying to find Bela when an unexplained consequence pops up from the previous hunt. Hurt Sam, Protective Dean. Written by BlueEyeDemonLiz and Gidgetgal9 A big thanks goes to our beta- sendintheclowns- who also provided us with the prompt to write this!

-0-

Dean was on an adrenaline rush as they tore off after Bela. The bitch had stolen the colt right under their noses. She would pay once he found her.

He and Sam hadn't had any leads so they had decided to back track to Bela's apartment to see if they could find any clues to where she might be. Bobby on the other hand was scoping out the local gas stations on the way out of town.

Dean could tell that something was bothering Sam. He hoped that it wasn't something that Sam had witnessed under the influence of the dream root while in Dean's dream. That was something Dean didn't want to talk about but he decided that he needed to know.

"So Sam, why are you so quiet over there? What's on your mind?" Dean asked trying to sound nonchalant.

"Uh, I have a headache that's all." Now that Sam admitted it, Dean could see that the boy was a bit pale.

"Well college boy, if you took some Tylenol it might help. There's some in the glove box and there's a bottle of water under the seat." Sam gave an irritated look but took the drug.

It was late afternoon, and a bit early for them to stop but Dean was considering it. Sam looked like crap and if he was honest with himself, he was a bit beat. The dream root had definitely taken its toll on the both of them.

"Hey Sammy, why don't we find us a room and get some take out?" Dean noticed that his brother flinched as he spoke, as if in a trance.

"I'm okay, Dean. We need to get to Bela's apartment soon." Sam's voice was quiet and withdrawn.

The boy was definitely in pain, Dean could tell from his voice. Dean knew he needed to get Sam settled in a room so the boy could relax.

"Dude, you know that heading for Bela's apartment is grasping at straws. She's too smart to leave behind clues. It might be smarter to stop and plan things out- see if any of our contacts know anything. Besides, I'm starving." Dean smirked at his brother and could see that he was winning this argument as Sam weakly smiled back.

"Yeah, some research wouldn't hurt. Just be sure to get a room with wireless, okay?"

"Sure thing, Samantha!" Dean replied as he pulled off at the next exit, he was happy his research ploy had worked on his little brother.

-0-

Sam was relieved to stop. The Tylenol hadn't made a dent in his pounding head and on top of it Sam was feeling a bit nauseous. He hoped that the symptoms were caused by the recent stress of the hunt and not because he was coming down with something.

The motel that Dean had picked was a half way decent one on at least the outside. Sam watched as Dean approached with a room key and unlocked the trunk.

Sam opened his door and stood. He was immediately glad that he had the car to steady himself as he was hit with a wave of dizziness. Sam took a couple of calming breaths and slowly made his way to the trunk to get his bag.

As he approached Dean gave him a concerned look. "Dude, you're moving like you're eighty years old! I'll get your bag."

Sam rolled his eyes, and changed course towards the motel room. He leaned heavily on the door frame as Dean unlocked the door.

Dean plopped the bags down on the floor and then was off to the bath room. When he reappeared he had a glass of water in his hand.

Sam had sat down on the edge of one of the beds as his brother approached. Dean handed him the water.

"Drink it Sam, you're looking too pale. What's going on with you? And don't say you're fine, cause I'm not buying it." Dean said as he plopped down on the other bed.

Sam drank the cool liquid and had to admit it made him feel a little less shaky.

"Uh, my head is still hurting, and I'm a bit nauseous. I guess I'm coming down with something." Sam admitted to Dean. He hated Dean going into mother hen mode, but this wasn't something he could hide any longer.

"Ya think? You're dizzy too right? I saw you swaying when you got out of the car." Dean said as he took the glass from him and Sam nodded in defeat. There was no hiding physical ailments from his big brother.

"You want more water?" Dean asked as he rose from the bed.

"Nah, I think I'd just like to sleep for awhile." Sam said as he got up and started removing clothing.

"You do that, and I'll go and get me some grub and you some Sprite and crackers. I'll be back soon." Dean was already grabbing keys and heading to the door.

"Thanks Dean." Sam replied quietly as he finished stripping down to his boxers and t-shirt and then crawled into bed. It wasn't long before he was out.

-0-

Dean returned to the room with a burger and beer for himself and Sprite and crackers for Sam. He quietly entered the room and found Sam dead to the world, sprawled out on the bed.

Sam was laying on his stomach, with one leg sticking out from the covers. Dean smirked, poor kid never did quite fit on a motel bed. Dean gently put the wayward leg back on the bed and under the covers. Sam didn't even stir. The boy was really out of it.

Dean went over to small desk in the room and spread out his food. Once he was done, he hit the computer to email a few contacts about Bela and then settled in to watch some bad television. His brother hadn't moved the whole time so Dean decided that he would hit the hay too.

The clock display said 7:17am when Dean looked at it. He slowly sat up and was surprised to find that his brother was still asleep. Slowly rising from bed, Dean decided to make some coffee in the complimentary pot.

It was close to 8 am before Sam started to stir. Dean was on his third cup of coffee and checking leads on the internet when his little brother slowly sat up in bed.

Sam was rubbing his face and looked confused. He finally spoke. "Dean, when did the power go out?"

"It didn't." Dean replied smirking at his disoriented little brother. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, for one thing Dean, it's dark in here." Sam replied, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, I didn't turn the lights on this morning 'cause I didn't want to disturb sleeping beauty." Dean watched as Sam's face went to one of confusion to one of fear.

"Um, Dean what time is it?"

"Little after 8 am bro. Are you okay?" Dean could see Sam becoming more tense.

"Is the sun up? Cause I can't see anything. but total darkness." Sam's voice was calm but his body language was anything but.

Dean stood and walked over to Sam. He noticed that his little brother was unable to track his movement and jumped a bit when Dean sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Sammy, is anything else wrong?" Dean had grabbed each of Sam's arms in a bid to show support to Sam but to also ground himself. His sibling flinched under his touch. This couldn't be happening.

Sam's tone became angry. "Uh, I can't see Dean, so I'm not really worried about anything else at the moment."

Dean was in shock over the venom coming out of his brother's mouth. Sam's comment wasn't just a sarcastic remark, it was full of anger.

Before letting himself act out in anger and hurt over his brother's tone, Dean reminded himself that Sam tended to get this way when he felt things were out of his control. Anger was Sam's way of masking his fear, something that little brother had learned from his older sibling. Dean knew his best course of action was to calm his little brother.

"Calm down Sam, other symptoms could be important in figuring out what's happening here. Does your head still hurt?" Dean tried to keep his tone calm even though he was ready to freak out. A blind scared Sammy was definitely pushing all of Dean's protective big brother buttons.

"Yeah, my head still hurts and I'm still a bit nauseous. What are we going to do Dean?"

Dean could hear the panic in Sam's voice and knew that it was up to him to keep Sam together.

"We're not going to freak out for starters. I'm going to help you get dressed and then we are going to find a local hospital." Dean had already gotten up and was grabbing Sam's clothes off the floor from the day before.

"But we can't Dean, we can't go. We're wanted!" Sam's voice was full of fear and it broke Dean's heart.

"Don't worry Sammy, we're in some podunk town, that maybe has a handful of cops. We won't get caught. Now get up and help me get you dressed." Dean could see Sam acceptance of his reasoning and slowly stood, swaying a bit.

"All right Sasquatch, let's see if we can get your jeans on without you taking us both out."

Helping his brother dress was a chore, taking Dean back to a time of wrangling a toddler Sammy into clothes, but at least Sam seemed calmer when they were done. He was even able to get Sam to drink a little bit of Sprite before they headed out to the Impala.

-0-

Waking up to total darkness had been one of the scariest moments in Sam's life and that was saying something considering his past.

He had been very glad that his brother had been there. Sam could tell that his brother was freaked out too, but was able to put that panic on the back burner in order to face what needed to be done.

Sam was trying to take deep calming breaths as his brother drove him to the hospital. Having to go to the hospital was enough to send Sam into a panic, but throwing in the blindness made it tenfold.

The rumble of the Impala's engine that was normally a soothing sound, was now nerve racking. On top of that, he could feel every bump in the road and that was not helping his stomach.

He knew that it was common for other senses to become more sensitive if you lost one, but understanding that and experiencing it first hand was almost more than Sam could handle.

The only thing that was providing comfort to Sam at the moment was his brother. Dean had his right hand on Sam's left thigh as he drove. That touch was all that kept Sam from losing it, well that and Dean's reassuring voice talking nonstop.

"Well kiddo, we're here. It doesn't appear to be a large hospital but it is decent size. I parked pretty close, so hold on and I'll grab you and guide you to the Emergency Doors."

Sam could hear the loud squeak of the Impala's driver door opening and then closing. He still flinched when his passenger side door opened. Sam swallowed down his fear and reached out for his brother.

"Dean, you didn't park in the handicapped spot did you?" Sam could almost hear his brother's eye roll.

Dean huffed. "What kind of person do you take me for?"

"Uh, the kind that avoids my questions by asking another. " Sam smirked, it was good to get one up on his brother.

"Yeah whatever Francis. Let's get you inside, before people start to talk. You're hanging all over me doesn't do much for my manly image." Dean slid his arm tight around Sam's waist guiding him from the car.

"Yeah whatever you have to tell yourself Dean." Sam replied. He was just happy to have his brother this close, keeping him stable in more ways than one.

The walk to the front of the hospital happened without incident. Luckily the sidewalks and walk ways were clear.

Sam heard the ER doors slide open and was immediately assaulted with the antiseptic smells of the hospital. The smells were so strong that he felt a bit dizzy again and grabbed his brother to steady himself.

Dean's concerned voice pierced the dizzy fog Sam was caught up in. "Sammy, you okay?"

"Yeah Dean, just the stupid hospital smells made me a bit dizzy. I'm better now." Sam loosened his grip and felt his brother stop.

"I could get you a wheelchair."

"No Dean, I'm fine. Let's just find the front desk okay." Sam tugged on his brother to move forward.

"Alright, but you better not faint on me, or will both go down and that'll ruin any of my chances with the hot nurses here." His brother's banter was all Dean but his tone was still full of concern.

They walked a few more steps when Dean told Sam to stop. Sam reached forward and could feel the reception desk.

A female voice pulled Sam out of his musing over how tall the desk was.

"May I help you?" The voice was full of curiosity. Sam was sure that they made a weird pair. Sam leaning on his brother with no apparent illness or injuries.

Dean answered before Sam could find the words to reply. "Yeah, you could. My brother woke up this morning blind as a bat. We're a little freaked out because we're not sure what's going on."

"Oh, wow. I'll page Dr. Burns. She is our head neurologist on staff this morning. Why don't you and your brother find a seat in the waiting room. I'll bring over the admissions paper work as soon as I find Dr. Burns." The receptionist's tone was full of sympathy.

Dean sighed. "Thank you. Okay Sammy, we need to take about ten steps and then turn right."

Sam nodded and let his brother guide him to the waiting area.

"Dean, what names are we using?" Sam asked once they had sat down.

"Well, I meant to tell you this, but with the dream root and Bela, I haven't had a chance. Uh, Bobby made his nephews Dean and Sam Singer, part owners in his business and got us legit insurance cards. Shoot, which reminds me, we should call Bobby." Sam could hear Dean fishing his phone out of his pocket.

"Wow, that was nice of Bobby." Sam really didn't know what to say, he was really touched by the gesture.

"Yeah well, I guess we are the closest thing he has to family and vice versa. It was nice of him, but he grumbled something about needing to do something so that we could go to the hospital and not get arrested. Damn." Dean huffed out in frustration.

"What Dean?"

"Oh nothing, just can't get any reception on the phone in here. I'll have to call him later." Sam heard Dean put his phone away.

They sat in silence for what seemed like forever, but was probably just a few minutes. When Sam heard someone approach.

"I found Dr. Burns. She is finishing up with a patient and will be out to see you soon. In the meantime, if you could fill these out, that would be great." Sam could feel the receptionist reach across him handing Dean the paperwork.

"Thanks." Dean replied as he took the paper work.

Sam heard the girl walk away and then his brother sighed. "You had to go blind just so I'd have to spend my morning filling out stupid paper work."

Sam grinned. "My mission for the day is accomplished, I annoyed my big brother." Sam was happy that Dean was keeping things light. It was keeping him sane.

Dean finished the paper work and returned it and still no doctor. The wait was beginning to wear on Sam. He was relieved to hear another set of footsteps heading their direction.

"Sam Singer?" A female voice called out as she approached.

Sam nodded in her direction.

Dean spoke up. "Yeah, I'm Dean Singer and this is my brother Sam."

"Hello, I'm Dr. Burns. I understand that you reported at the front desk that Sam can't see?" The voice was sympathetic but it was hard to read people without sight, Sam was learning.

"I woke up to complete darkness." Sam was surprised by the raw emotion that he heard in his own voice.

"I see. Have you suffered any head trauma recently?" The doctor's voice had a curious note to it.

"No Ma'am. Not recently." Sam replied quietly.

He felt Dean shuffling in the chair next to him. "Well, you see Sam here is a bit of a dare devil and loves ride in motor cross events and has had quite a few spills over the years, but nothing real recent."

Sam could hear the doctor scribbling something down. He was just glad that Dean was able to think on his toes and give a plausible story to Sam's past injuries.

"Well Sam, I think that the best thing to do is to examine you and run some tests. I brought a wheelchair, so we can head back to the exam rooms with no trouble."

"Can my brother go with me?" Sam hated the child like sound to his voice, but damn it he needed Dean right now.

"He may have to step out for some of the tests, but yes he can come back to the exam room with you."

"Thank you." Was all Sam could muster vocally to the doctor.

Sam felt Dean pat his shoulder and then reach to help him stand. "Alright Sasquatch let's get you into the wheelchair. No popping wheelies though."

Sam let his brother guide him into the chair and with a deep sigh felt himself being propelled forward. He took a calming breath and tried to get his emotions under control.

-0-

Dean was very happy that the doctor was allowing him to accompany Sam. At this point, he needed to be near Sam as much as his brother needed him. It was frustrating to have Sammy this weak and vulnerable with no idea as to why it had happened.

Dr. Burns was being very accommodating and understanding of the scary situation that his brother was in. Dean had been on edge when they first entered the exam room but relaxed a little as he watched her with Sam.

She explained everything that she was about to do in detail before touching Sam. His younger brother still flinched at the invading touch but was able to keep calm. Dean wasn't sure that he would have been as calm.

The idea of total darkness was a scary one and something that he wished that he could magically make go away for Sam. Sam had been through enough.

The other thought that kept leaping into Dean's head was that he was leaving Sam soon, and how could he leave his brother in this state? So vulnerable and open to attack. He pushed that thought away and tried to concentrate on getting Sam better.

Dean was allowed to be with Sam for everything but the scans of Sam's head. It was hard to leave Sam for even that small amount of time but he was reassured by the capable hands Sam seemed to be in.

Once the exam and tests were done, the doctor had admitted Sam into a room. She had told them that as soon as she knew something that she would be back.

"So kiddo, you want me to turn the TV on?" Dean asked once Sam was settled in bed.

"Nah, not really in the TV watching mood." Sam's voice was quiet and small.

"'Kay, but do you mind if I sit on the edge of your bed? The chair they have in here for visitors looks like a torture device." Dean hoped that Sam would let him sit with him. Touch and contact had seemed to keep Sam grounded before and Dean wanted to continue that support.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Sure man."

As Dean sat down he could see the tension leave his brother's body. They sat in silence for a bit until a cute blond nurse entered the room.

"Hi Sam, my name is Linda and I have some lunch for you." Dean gave the nurse a smile as she expertly moved the patient tray over to Sam and plopped the lunch tray on top.

Sam flinched at the sound of the tray being set down. But managed a weak smile. "Thanks."

"You're welcome Sam. I heard that you are having a bit of trouble with your vision. Would you like me to help you with your lunch or would you rather have your guest help you?" Dean could tell that the nurse had fallen for the innocent puppy dog eye syndrome and was ready to do anything to make his brother comfortable.

"Uh, this is my brother Dean, and I think it would be okay for him to help me. But thanks Linda." Sam's voice held a bit more confidence and Dean was proud of Sam.

Later he would have to tell Sam what an exceptionally beauty Linda was and that he had blown a wonderful opportunity.

Linda smile. "Alright Sam, but if you need anything just buzz me. Nice to meet you Dean." She gave Dean a bright smile.

"Nice to meet you Linda, and thank you." Dean gave her his patented Winchester smile and was happy to see the woman nod and blush as she left.

-0-

Sam could smell the food before Dean started opening lids and he was already making him nauseous.

"Well, Sammy it doesn't look to bad." Was Dean's retort as he looked at the food.

"You eat it then. It smells horrible." Sam replied.

"Well, I'm nabbing your ham sandwich, but the rest is just yucky. Wanna bite of the sandwich?" Sam could hear his brother reaching for said sandwich.

Sam shook his head no.

Dean sighed. "Well you need to keep your strength up. How about some orange juice? It even has a lid and straw so no mess."

Before Sam could respond, Dean had grabbed his right hand and shoved the Styrofoam cup in his hand. Sam knew that arguing was useless so he felt for the straw with his left hand and slowly brought it to his mouth.

The liquid felt good on his dry mouth and he drank it all with no complaints. Once he was done he felt around for the tray in front of him and sat the empty cup down.

"Good boy." Dean replied, mouth evidently stuffed with sandwich from the muffled sound.

"I'm not a dog Dean." Sam huffed back.

"Yeah, well sometimes I wish you were, dogs at least listen." Dean shot back.

Before Sam could reply there was a sharp knock at his door that made Sam jump. The compensating senses thing was wearing on his patience. He hated jumping at every unexpected noise or touch.

Dean must have picked up on Sam's rattled state because he spoke up before Sam could even find the words.

"Come in."

"Hi Sam, it's Dr. Burns. We got your initial tests back." Sam could hear her approaching his bed.

Sam was afraid to ask, but the need to know won out. "Did you find anything?"

"My initial thoughts were that you might be suffering temporary blindness from head trauma, which is common but we have found no evidence of head trauma. I'm hoping that when the other tests come back, we will have some idea of what is going on." Sam could hear the frustration in her voice and he shared it.

Dean was shuffling around next to him. "So doc, if this blindness is not caused by head trauma and you can't find any damage, what do you think is going on?"

"Well, there are cases of psychosomatic blindness caused by mental trauma, but I really don't think that Sam is suffering from any mental issues. So basically, for now I would like for Sam to put some thought into anything that might have happened recently that could be a factor. It might help is in our search for the cause." Sam could tell that the doctor was baffled from her tone.

Sam was at a loss and was now afraid that something supernatural was at play here.

He cleared his voice and spoke to the doctor. "I'll give it some thought, thanks doctor."

Dean shuffled again and his tone was dismissive. "Yeah, thanks doc."

"I'll be back as soon as I have more news." And with that Sam could hear her exiting the room.

Dean laid a hand on Sam's thigh. "So dude, what do you think? Anything happen while you were in my head tripping on dream root that could've triggered a mental trauma causing this psycho whatever blindness?"

"No Dean, I just fought with Jeremy." It was then that Sam realized that the answer was right in front of him. He had suffered head trauma at Jeremy's hands.

-0-

TBC

A/N: A big thanks goes out to our beta - sendintheclowns! Her advice and support is always appreciated!

Gidgetgal's A/N: I just wanted to say that it has been a blast getting to write with the wonderful BlueEyedDemonLiz and I hope that we get to write together again. She is an awesome writer and a joy to work with!

Thanks for reading and we would love to hear what you think of this tag to Dream A Little Dream of Me!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who took time to review! A big thanks to our wonderful beta- sendintheclowns- she has been such a wonderful support!

It's Always Darkest Before The Dawn – Part Two

"Son of a bitch. Sam, are you sure?" Dean rubbed at his mouth with the back of his hand and glanced over at Sam for a second time. Sam was chewing on his bottom lip, the way he always did when he wore his Dean, this is bad face. A look which Dean hated each and every time he saw it and silently prayed he'd never have to see again.

"Dean, he used my head for batting practice. I remember pain in the dream and I had a killer headache when I woke up but you heard the doctor, it's not like I have any physical injuries." Sam's hands had risen to his head, running through his hair following the contours of his scalp, probing for any lumps. Finding nothing, his hands fell uselessly into his lap.

"Sam?" Dean said suddenly and Sam's head turned, sightless eyes directed somewhere over Dean's left shoulder. "If this is something supernatural, the hospital isn't going to be able to do shit, dude. We need to get you out of here—before they try whisking you off for medical research or something." Dean didn't add the part about how he was also worried the doctors would want to start examining Sam for possible mental health problems and fought back the image of his kid brother locked away in a padded cell somewhere.

Research. That one word provoked terrible feelings of hopelessness in Sam's mind. I'm not going to be able to do research, let alone watch my brother's back on a hunt. How the hell am I going to help him get out of his deal?

Dean watched his brother's facade crumble, momentary fear quickly giving way to hopelessness. "Sam. Hey, we'll find a way to help you man. Winchesters find a way."

Like I'll find a way to get you out of your deal right, Dean? I'm not going to be able to find my way out of this room unless someone holds my hand. Being a Winchester used to mean everything to Sam. The name had always instilled in him a feeling of pride, worth, belonging. As a child, Sam had always believed that as long as Dad and Dean were around, as a Winchester family unit, they were unbeatable. But Dad had died at the hands of the Yellow Eyed Demon and Dean was living out the last few months of his own death sentence now too. Being a Winchester didn't save Dad and it was starting to feel like it wasn't going to save Dean either. Being a Winchester didn't make Sam feel safe anymore, just cursed.

"Maybe I should stay—let the doctors run a few more tests?" Sam couldn't see Dean's expression but could imagine the glower Dean's face was doing right now. "You should go after Bela. Track down the colt; leave me here for a few days. I'll be alright Dean; I'm probably in the best place for me right now."

"What? Are you kidding me, leave you here? No way. No goddamn way, Sammy." Sam was right; he didn't need his sight back to recognize that Dean was getting angry. 'Angry Dean' usually came out to play whenever 'scared Dean' was threatening to make an appearance.

"Dean..." Sam knew that he was beginning to sound whiny, but he really did feel ill and miserable. The darkness was starting to feel claustrophobic, pressing in on Sam at all sides. In truth Sam didn't want Dean to leave him, Dean's voice, Dean's very presence was keeping Sam from breaking down altogether but he couldn't stand the thought of being a dependent burden on his brother either.

"Sam stop— I'm taking you out of here and we're gonna find a cure."

Sam smiled weakly, thanking God for 'determined Dean'. There was something about Dean's stubborn resolve which Sam couldn't help but find infectious, giving him a glimmer of hope when all he had wanted to do was admit defeat. "Dr. Burns is going to be pissed."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll worry about that later."

-0-

Dean drove, every now and then stealing the occasional glance over at his brother. Sam was sitting silent in the car, looking down at his hands twining in his lap. Only he wasn't really looking at his hands because Sam couldn't see anything. Christ, Sammy is blind now.

Dean couldn't even begin to imagine how hard that must be for the kid, not only being blind but not knowing if it was permanent. Supernatural blindness wasn't exactly something you could look up in a medical journal, in amongst all the advice on how best to stitch up a zombie bite or what poultice would work wonders on burns caused by a short-tempered fire spirit. There were no hard and fast rules, not where the supernatural is concerned. Sam could be stuck like this, forever...oh, shut up damn it! Dean smacked the heel of his hand against the side of his head with a dull thud, trying to smack away the negative thoughts which were claiming supremacy in his brain.

"Dean?" Sam had turned his head towards his brother but was busily grinding his knuckles roughly into his eye sockets, as though rubbing them bloody would make his vision come back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Hey, hey—stop doing that, you're making them sore." Dean Winchester; cool as ice older brother and unsurpassed mother hen. Dean watched as Sam's fists moved away from his face. Sam blinked once and frowned. "Want to listen to some music Sammy?" It's not like the kid can play 'I Spy' to pass the time now is it. "You can choose the sounds dude." Dean offered temptingly.

Sam turned his head away and briefly Dean thought his magical comforting big brother skills had failed him. "Led Zeppelin," came the softly muttered response from the seat next to him.

Led Zeppelin? See, I knew he liked my cassette tapes, Dean smirked to himself. Not a top favourite. Not right up there with AC/DC's 'Back in Black' or the beyond amazing Metallica's 'The Black Album' but if Sam wanted Led Zeppelin then Led Zeppelin it would be. Dean pretty much bit his tongue in two to stop himself when he nearly asked Sam to dig the tape out from the box stored under his seat.

Sam to his credit, being the ever observant little brother that he was, seemed to sense Dean's dilemma and quickly bent over, rummaging under his seat before pulling out the box of tapes. He held out the box to Dean and Dean swiftly found what he was looking for. Shoving the tape into the stereo, the belting sounds of the opening track "Black Dog" soon filled the car.

A few seconds into the song and Sam was smiling, a small smile but still a smile and it warmed Dean's heart. Although he'd never admit to anything quite as soppy as that. "See, things are looking up already." Dean chirped as Sam huffed doubtfully. "Hey Sammy, remember that ugly ass black dog we hunted with Dad in West Virginia? If I remember rightly, didn't it pee on Dad's trouser leg?"

Sam's eyebrows rose and his smile widened. Everything's going to be just fine Sammy, you'll see. Yeah, "you'll see" alright.

-0-

For awhile Dean fed one tape after another into the stereo, moving from ZZ Top right through the entire Metallica back catalogue to Blue Oyster Cult's 'Mirrors'. A steady stream of one song after another, comforting enough that Sam eventually allowed himself to be lulled into a deep sleep.

Dean watched his brother fondly and swiped at his own tired eyes. They hadn't discussed where they were heading, Dean had purely satisfied his own need to just get in the car and drive—but this time he couldn't escape the thing that was hurting his brother. Maybe if we can find a motel, we can start doing some research...or at least I can.

Dean drove for another hour before finally pulling off the road at the Kingsley Inn, Fort Maidson, Iowa. Sam woke up in a dismal mood once he realized his vision had still not returned, grumpily batting Dean's hand away which scrabbled to try and help him climb out of the car. "Sam, you're going to face plant if you don't let me help you." Dean groaned frustrated by his brother's despondent attitude.

"Fine but let me take your arm instead of you yanking me all over the place." Sam reached out a hand and gripped Dean's elbow tightly as his brother carefully guided him out of the car and into their motel room.

"Okay you know the motel room drill Sam. Two queen sized beds against the left hand wall. One armchair at twelve o'clock and there's a desk at eight o'clock. The bathroom is towards the back and...hey, Sammy? That's the closet dude but if you want to take a leak in there go right ahead." Dean watched with forced patience. Fighting the urge to rush forward and grab Sam's arm every time his brother stumbled but eventually a gloomy faced Sam found his way successfully to the bathroom, closing the door and locking it behind him.

"Dean, I'm okay—I can manage." Sam muttered from beyond the thin door. Huh. The kid could still sense when Dean was in hovering mode.

"Alright but don't come crying to me if you end up washing your hands in the toilet bowl." Dean took a couple of steps away from the closed bathroom door and sat on the edge of one of the beds. If I hear anything which even remotely sounds like Sam in trouble, then I'm kicking the door in.

Dean was unashamedly relieved when his brother emerged some twenty minutes later, unscathed, with a towel around his waist and his hair dripping wet.

-0-

Sam yelped as the cold wet cloth hit his face with a satisfying slap. "Jeez, a little warning wouldn't go amiss next time Dean."

"Sorry. My bad." Dean grinned and glanced down at his brother who was laid out flat on his bed. The damp facecloth now resting across his eyes.

"Dean, it smells terrible. What did you say is on it again?"

"A little ground down Skunks Cabbage, Blessed Thistle and Angelica Root."

"Well, it really stinks."

"Quit bitchin'—give it time to work."

"Dean?

"Give it time Sammy."

"Dean!"

"What already?"

"It's starting to sting."

Dean frowned and promptly yanked the cloth away. He didn't need to ask to know that their latest attempt hadn't been successful.

So far, nothing had been successful. Not the holy water he'd used to sluice out Sam's eyeballs until his rims were red raw. Not the rituals Dean had chanted, one hand hovering over Sam's head. Not the Latin or Hebrew texts. Not even the Samburu tribal healing dance he'd thrown in for good measure. And Dean was feeling somewhat guilty for being relieved Sam couldn't see to witness him dancing that funky little number across the motel room floor.

Sam was still blind and sooner or later Dean knew he'd have to face up to the fact that his brother wasn't getting better. If anything Sam was starting to look worse. As time passed his brother's face was growing paler, bleached of colour and he was shaky on his feet. He was clearly in pain. Sam hadn't admitted that much but Dean could still see the way Sam was biting down on the inside of his cheek as he tried to hide it. Sometimes Dean really hated the way they had been raised as stoic 'suck it up' Winchesters.

"It's still early days yet Sammy. We'll figure it out." Dean forced himself to smile, even though Sam couldn't see to appreciate it. "Let's get some sleep for now okay?"

Sam just looked aching grateful that the experimenting was over and nodded.

-0-

When Sam woke up it was dark. This was not all that surprising considering that pretty much summed up the extent of Sam's world now. The all encompassing crushing darkness. He smacked his dry lips together and yawned loudly. There was a warm patch on his cheek which Sam vaguely wondered whether or not had been caused by a beam of sunlight streaming in through the motel room window or possibly from where he'd had his face pressed against his pillow. It could be two o' clock in the morning or two o' clock in the afternoon. Sam had no way to tell.

"Dean?" He whispered. "Dean, what time is it?" Crap, if it was two o' clock in the morning Dean was going to kick his ass. Sam pulled himself up into a sitting position. "Dean?" He tried again, a little louder now although he knew that Dean wasn't a heavy sleeper and usually woke up in a snap if he thought something was wrong. But there was still no answer.

Sam felt panic begin to bubble in his chest. Something was wrong. Where the hell was Dean? Dean wouldn't leave him. Something must have happened to his brother and Sam had been too damn useless to stop it.

"DEAN?" Sam threw back the bedclothes and stumbled up out of bed. He stuck out his arms, groping wildly in the darkness as he edged his way hesitantly across the room. But he had underestimated how light-headed he was and as Sam's knee hit against a hard object he felt himself topple forwards. His hands shot out instinctively and his head connected with something unforgiving on the way down as he landed in a heap on the carpet. Groaning loudly and rubbing at the rapidly forming lump on his forehead, Sam struggling to sit up. There was sticky wetness on his hands and he was pretty sure he'd split his head open like a melon, especially if the sharp spiking pain was anything to go by. Great, just perfect.

Sam's head shot up as he heard the motel room open and at a loss at what else to do, he raised his fists and tried to appear intimidating. He had been a skinny kid and his growth spurt at age fourteen had made him an even skinnier teenager but his return to hunting after leaving Stanford had agreed with Sam physically, even if it hadn't agreed with him mentally. And he'd grown into a muscular young man complete with a well toned six pack to prove it. So Sam could pull off intimidating, even though all intimidating six foot four of him was sitting on the floor in his pyjamas, bleeding like a stuck pig.

"Christ, Sammy."

Sam let out a long breath. Dean. He felt strong hands grip him under his armpits and hoist him upwards. "You know if you hate the decor in this room that much, you really don't need to head butt the wallpaper to prove it man." Gentle fingers ghosted over Sam's aching forehead and pressed a bandanna to the shallow cut above his eyebrow.

"I can't see the decor Dean." Sam groaned as the same fingers moved then to squeeze his shoulder ruefully. "Where'd you go to anyway?" Sam asked trying to soften his tone, after all none of this was Dean's fault and putting the guilt trip on his brother wasn't playing fair.

"I stepped outside to call Bobby; I didn't want to wake you yet."

Sam couldn't prevent the hopeful look which flashed across his face. "Can Bobby help?"

"He's going to try; he said we need to get our backsides over to his place pronto. He was a touch irritable seeing as we hadn't called him sooner— you know Bobby."

Sam's nose crinkled as it picked up on something. "I—I can smell donuts."

"I'm totally hiring you out as a human blood hound." Dean smirked as he opened the paper bag he was carrying and shoved a still warm jelly donut into Sam's hand.

Sam sniffed the air again as he bit into the donut with enthusiasm. "Coffee?"

"No coffee." Dean replied as Sam's smile dropped. "One girly frothy decaf latte with hazelnut syrup but no coffee."

"You're a jerk." Sam grumbled as the large styrofoam cup found its way into his hands. He took a sip, trying to ignore the way his stomach had been growling just moments before and yet was now churning uncomfortably as he swallowed down his breakfast.

Dean seemed to notice the sudden shift in Sam's expression. "You okay? You don't look too good."

"A bit queasy but kissing the floor with my face didn't help I suppose."

Dean shuffled his feet suddenly itching to get moving, get Sam fixed and fast. "Bobby will know what to do. The man has a book for every occasion."

"I sure hope so." The half eaten donut was dropped back into the paper bag.

"Yeah, me too Sammy." Me too.

-0-

The drive to Bobby's wasn't a long one but once again Dean found himself filling the empty hours with music. The scenery was nothing more than mile after mile of open farmland, so unless you had an obsession for agriculture or perhaps just a corn crop fetish, there wasn't a whole lot worth looking at. At least, that's what Dean kept telling Sam.

By the time they were nearing Bobby's place, it was pushing towards lunchtime and Dean was feeling hungry. He hadn't had the heart to sit stuffing his face with donuts when Sam had gone a sickly shade of green after only a couple of bites. "Sammy, do you reckon we'll be able to persuade Bobby to make us some of his famous Singer eggs? You know the omelette he makes with all those wild mushrooms?" Dean was nigh on salivating at the thought. Bobby could burn a slice of toast but he had a way with cooking eggs—his favoured no-nonsense fare for the bachelor man—which could draw a food lover like Dean into a near state of utter glee.

Sammy didn't answer and fleetingly Dean thought his brother might be sleeping. "Wakey wakey Sleeping Beauty." Dean said reaching out an arm and prodding Sam lightly on the shoulder. His heart dropped into his boots when instead of waking up, Sam's head simply lolled forward so that his brother slumped lifeless against the passenger side door.

Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road with an ear piercing screech of the tires. He was out of the car and running round to the passenger side in an instant. As he opened the passenger side door Sam slid out limply against him and he carefully lowered his brother down onto the flat surface of the gravel highway. Sam was white as a sheet and a thin sheen of perspiration covered his face. Dean reached out a hand and checked Sam's pulse, worried to find it racing beneath his fingertips. Son of a bitch. Sammy.

For several long seconds Dean was conflicted over what to do. If he risked taking his brother to the hospital—with all their expensive intricate medical equipment and God knows how many years of medical training—it could and probably would prove futile. And Dean strongly doubted he could stand by and watch a bunch of haughty doctors in white coats flapping around his brother because Sam needed help and a hospital simply wouldn't cut it this time. At any rate Bobby only lived around another thirty minutes drive away and if Sam's condition did take another nose dive, Dean could always call for an ambulance from there.

Carefully he laid his brother out in the back of the Impala. And with one eye on the road and one eye on the rear-view mirror where he could see his brother sprawled out on the backseat, Dean continued to drive only this time clearly losing his struggle to keep the Impala's speedometer dial below the hundred mark.

-0-

Bobby shoved a strong black coffee into Dean's waiting hands. "Okay so I've done some research on the dream root and it looks like Sam is suffering some form of supernatural induced trauma from the beating he endured in the dream. And well..." Bobby's eyes nervously scanned the floor.

"And?" Dean pressed. He could feel himself growing impatient as he reached over and pressed his hand against Sam's forehead, assessing his brother's temperature and hoping his unconscious brother would find some small comfort in the simple contact.

"And I have a theory."

"Oh, please do tell Bobby because you know nothing delights me more than playing with my brother's life by sharing our best guesses on ways to save him."

"Now listen up smart ass. I understand you're worried about Sam. I'm worried too but this is all we've got to go on right now so listen and listen good." Bobby paused and sucked in a ragged breath. "My theory is that Sam's brain and body are reacting the way they would have had he suffered the head trauma in the real world. And...if I'm right about this, the blindness should be temporary. The kid needs time to heal."

"That's it? We sit around on our pretty derrières keeping our fingers crossed he gets better. What, over time?"

"Well, yes that...and I called in a few favours, managed to get my hands on some linctus which comes from the same plant as the dream root."

"Just do something, please, anything."

Bobby scowled; the kid was really starting to try his patience. As his eyes fell on Sam, out cold on the couch, Bobby's heart softened. Dean was panicked and desperately afraid for his brother's life—and damn if these boys hadn't already had more than enough to cope with throughout the course of their young lives.

Bobby looked up fixing Dean with a determined stare. "I'll do everything I can to help him."

-0-

The long day passed slowly into night. Bobby mixed together a remedy using a cutting from the dream root plant and an assortment of herbs, most of which Dean had never heard of and couldn't even pronounce. Dean supported his brother's head tipping the glass towards Sam's colourless lips as a thin stream of the cloudy concoction trickled into his mouth. The swallow reflex seemed to force the majority of the liquid down successfully and Dean carefully wiped away the few splashes from his brother's chin. "See, you've got me mopping up after you now kiddo." Dean whispered to his brother's sweat-drenched face. Sam's brow crinkled in pain and he slept on.

Seeing Sam in pain never sat well with Dean. It never had, not from the common childhood illnesses which even the Winchesters had been forced to endure to Sam's first broken bone. Looking down at his little brother now was a cruel reminder of how he would be leaving Sam soon. Leaving him in the midst of a near desperate demon war, with easily half of the demons keen to march through hell parading Sam's body impaled on a spike. Dean knew that leaving Sam blind and consequently powerless to defend himself would mean he was as good as serving his brother up to those same demons on a silver platter.

At first Sam didn't seem to be making any improvements. He had shown no sign of waking up and in truth his pulse rate sped up a notch leaving Dean feeling like his composure was ready to shatter but slowly Sam started to regain some colour in his face and for the first time since this whole nightmare began, Dean let himself believe that things might get better, that Sam might get better.

It was almost dawn of the next morning when Sam's fever finally dropped and Sam started to stir. Dean had been keeping constant watch over his brother, moving away only when a firm Bobby forced him into the kitchen to make himself something to eat. But when Sam opened his eyes blinking rapidly, a near exhausted Dean forcing down tiny mouthfuls of a mushroom omelette was the first thing he saw.

"Dean— are you wearing an apron?"

Holy crap. "Sammy? You can see me?" The plate of unfinished omelette ending up shoved to one-side.

"You're fuzzy around the edges but I can see that you're totally working the Martha Stewart look."

Dean's grin was broad and the unexpected happiness so consuming; he almost forgot to come back with something. "Sh—shut up."

"That's original." Sam's eyes ached with a dull throbbing pain which seemed to hack right into his skull, like he had the hangover from hell but having his sight back pushed any thoughts of discomfort aside. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You'll make some lucky guy a fine housewife one of these days."

"SHUT UP."

Sam had always been the sensitive one, despite his Dad's best efforts to the contrary and so it didn't come as that big a surprise to Dean when he found his brother resting in a cane chair on Bobby's porch staring out at the starry night sky. Dean chuckled, his face wearing a lopsided grin as he swallowed the urge to rag his brother about it, but the kid had earned at least one hassle free stargazing session.

"You enjoying the Milky Way there Poindexter?" Okay, so not entirely hassle free.

"It's amazing isn't it?" Sam asked. Oblivious to Dean's gentle sarcasm, he pulled his gaze away from the heavens to glance over at his brother. His eyes were bright and shining and soaking up everything around him as though it were an original van Gogh. Dean felt a lump stick in his throat.

Leaving Sammy would be the hardest thing Dean would ever have to do, the only thing he never wanted to do. But Dean felt some minuscule sense of relief that Sam had a fighting chance again now and besides, his deal wouldn't come due for another few months and where there's a Winchester, Dean knew there was still hope.

-end-

BlueEyedDemonLiz's A/N: I really hope you've enjoyed reading this fic as much as we enjoyed writing it. It's been a fantastic experience to work with another writer, especially someone as talented as Gidgetgal. Hopefully I can twist her arm and convince her to agree to write with me again.


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